Not All Treasure Is Silver And Gold
by musicandme37
Summary: Pirate!AU in which Brendan is the Captain of The Chez Chez, many of the male HO cast make up his crew, and Ste is the stowaway that Brendan can't resist.


Ok, so...as the summary says, this is an AU!Pirate story. Basically, I was fed up of Stug and impatient for tomorrows episode of chemistry in the kitchen, so I wrote this for a bit of fun. Because basically, Brendan, Ste and the majority of the male cast would make hellishly hot pirates. It was great fun to write a bit of old!Ste, with his cockiness and criminal ways. And Brendan as a pirate...yum.

I'm not sure whether I'll continue this or not, but if you do enjoy it and want to read more, please let me know.

* * *

It was funny, really, that all this started because Ste had a certain inability to say no to temptation. That was all it was, in the end. A slip in his self-control. A lure that Ste hadn't been able to resist.

Two days ago he had been out working in order to get his kids fed.

And now he was on the run from officers. A wanted criminal.

And all because Ste couldn't keep his sticky fingers off anything shiny and valuable. He was like a magpie in the way he was drawn to any object that would make him and his family a bit of cash. And this particular object had been a wallet, of all things. Granted he probably shouldn't have done it, as the wallet belonged to a man of God, but then again, the Father Kieron should have kept it out of the sight of a semi-professional thief. He was just asking for it to be stolen, really.

Unluckily for Ste, he was spotted and one of the two officers that caught him knew of him and his previous crimes – well, the ones he had been caught for anyway. And although the oh so noble Father Kieron pleaded for his soul, and told them that Ste was merely 'in need of guidance', the officer then unhelpfully recalled that Ste's last convicted crime had landed him in jail for several months, and that this time the punishment would have to be more severe.

Ste loathed the thought of another stint in jail. And he was damned if he was facing the hangman's noose either. So he'd given one of the officers a punch, the other a shove, and then he'd run. Quite literally for his life.

And that was how he found himself slipping into a tavern, on the run, two days later and three towns over.

No-one in the busy tavern seemed to recognise him, and there was not an officer to be seen, so Ste gave a sigh of relief and swerved his way through the crowds towards the bar.

He leant over the bar and shouted over the noise to the barman. The barman nodded and pulled him a pint.

"You got the cash to pay for that, Stealer?" A voice spoke up beside him.

Ste jumped in surprise and was all ready to bolt, until he realised that the person who had spoken was Dennis Savage.

"When do I ever?" Ste grinned.

Dennis rolled his eyes and flicked a coin over to the barman when he stretched out his hand for Ste's money. "What would you do without me?"

"I don't know…steal a little more?"

Dennis grinned back. "And that, Ste, is how you earned the nickname."

The Savage family were travellers and traders that moved from town to town. Although Ste didn't know Dirk and his sons and daughter that well, the Savage's cousin Dennis was an infectious character, who Ste had met numerous times in various bars, and got on well with. Dennis had nicknamed Ste 'Stealer' when he had discovered Ste's main trade, and it had stuck. The last time he had seen Dennis was about a month ago, whilst the Savages had been travelling through his town.

"So, Stealer," Dennis said. "This funny thing happened yesterday."

"Yeah, and what was that?"

"These officers came by the town and well…" Dennis pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and smoothed it out on the bar in front of them. "It appears that you're a wanted man."

There was a drawn picture of Ste on the paper and a list of his crimes underneath. It didn't look too impressive: thief, fraud, blackmail, a compulsive liar with violent behaviour to name a few. They were far off the worst crimes in the world, but they had been enough to get him noticed by the law.

"You wanna put that away?" Ste hissed, eyes skittering around the bar to make sure no-one had noticed them.

"You needn't worry about being handed in by anyone here. There's no reward."

"What?!" Ste was actually slightly offended. "They don't think I'm worth a reward?"

"Apparently not." Dennis said, cheerfully folding the paper up again and handing it over to Ste. "You should keep that, they've managed to capture your image quite nicely."

"Ha. Ha." Ste rolled his eyes, pocketing the poster. "I really don't think they should be sending officers out hunting for me, I mean, there are loads of men higher on the wanted list than me!"

"Speaking of which, there was something I wanted to tell you." Dennis started excitedly, "You know my cousin Dodger? Well, he's gotten pretty well noticed for his smuggling and trading. So he became a wanted man. But not just by the law. He caught the attention of pirates too. A smuggler is a great ally to have for pirates. So guess what…"

"What?"

"He's become a part of Brady's crew!"

It was strange how bars could have quiet moments: when music would stop as the musician stopped one tune to start another, and when there was a lull in conversation. And it just so happened that the quiet moment happened just as Dennis declared those last words.

The bar was quiet before he'd said it, but afterwards, it was near silent.

"Who?" Ste asked, feeling as if he was missing something. He didn't like everyone's eyes on them. It was unnerving, and the last thing Ste had wanted to do was draw attention to himself. But Dennis Savage was one to always manage to draw a crowd.

"Brady." Dennis looked at him expectantly. "Captain Brady?"

Ste shook his head in confusion.

The barman leant on the bar. "You mean to tell me son, that you have no idea who the Captain of the _Chez Chez _is?"

"The _Chez Chez?_" Ste snorted a laugh. "Come on, that's not a real ship." Sure, he told his son Lucas all about the adventures of pirates on ships like the _Chez Chez, _but they weren't real stories. Just rumours about questionably real pirates on most probably fictional ships. Or so he thought.

Dennis was shaking his head. "As real as you or me." He turned to look at the people listening in, who were all watching Ste like he was some kind of halfwit, disbelieving that he wouldn't know about Captain Brady and the _Chez Chez_. "He wouldn't know." He told them. "He's not from a port or seaside town like this one."

"So the _Chez Chez _is real?" Ste asked, incredulous.

"And your cousin is now one of the crew?" Another guy at the bar asked, watching Dennis with a combination of awe and fear.

"Yep." Dennis grinned, sitting up on his barstool proudly. "Dodger Savage, smuggler extraordinaire, in the crew of the _Chez Chez._"

If there was one thing Dennis Savage loved, it was telling a good story. Tall tales were his usual calling. But this tale was apparently not that tall at all:

"The _Chez Chez _is a ship that has never lost a battle. It's known for stopping at towns and ports. Sometimes peacefully, but other times the crew ransack and pillage the lot. It carries more treasure and gold than you can ever believe, and a crew that is formidable. Many of you will have heard of the various individuals that make up the crew of the _Chez Chez_." He side-looked Ste as he said, "The highest of the high on the Wanted lists, all of them condemned to death by the act of piracy alone. The rest of their crimes are just an addition to the list that they read out before the pirate is hung on a noose if he is ever caught, and the longer the list, the better the pirate, in most cases. The Captain of the ship is Brendan Brady. He twirls that legendary moustache of his almost as well as he twirls the sword that has sent so many pirates, sailors and navy-men alike to Davy Jones' Locker. An Irishman of dark hair and heart, or so they say. The ship is distinguishable by their Jolly Roger flag, which rumour has it, has a moustache, in a joking ode to the Captain. But no-one jokes when they see that Jolly Roger flying on the horizon. The rest of the crew is made up of various well known criminals…Darren Osborne the gambler, Rhys Ashworth, Mitzeee – the only woman to sail on the _Chez Chez, _and Simon Walker the rogue ex-Naval Officer. I reckon you've heard of them?"

Ste nodded. He'd heard of the majority of those people. Each one sounding slightly more dangerous and unhinged than the last.

"And I reckon you've heard of Warren Fox?" Dennis asked.

Ste did a double take. "_The _Warren Fox?"

Warren Fox was a notorious pirate who had supposedly disappeared for over a year when the ship he was Captain of was brought down in flames. Eighteen months later he had appeared again. There were hundreds of rumours how he survived, but nobody really knew the right one. He had been a cruel Captain, well known for killing anyone – even his own crew – for little or no reason at all. The man adored chaos.

"Yep. He joined Brady's crew and has already worked his way up to the position of Quartermaster. And his son Joel is Brady's First Mate."

"And your cousin is one of that crew?" Ste asked. He'd met Dodger once, and the guy seemed nice. Not at all intimidating. How had he gotten onto a crew with the likes of Warren Fox, his son and this Captain Brady?

"He sure is." Dennis sighed, "Oh, the life of a pirate. I wouldn't mind it myself…"

"You're afraid of water." Ste said, eyebrow rising in amusement.

The men listening in all laughed.

Dennis blushed. "Yeah, well…apart from, you know…the sea…it'd be a pretty good life."

Ste shook his head with a grin. "If you say so."

"I do say so, and if you ask me…"

Dennis was cut off when a man burst into the tavern. "Navy officers heading this way!"

Immediately, half the bar began to clear. It seemed Ste wasn't the only Wanted man there.

Ste sighed and downed the rest of his drink. "Just when I was getting comfy." He jumped off the barstool. "I don't know this town, where should I go?"

"Hide in the cellar here." Dennis suggested. "When they are gone I'll come down and find you. You can stay with me until things have blown over."

"Thanks Dennis." Ste nodded, making sure the barman wasn't looking before he slipped down to the cellar.

x-H.O-x

Dennis turned back to the bar and began to twiddle his thumbs and whistle. He heard the door open behind him and the clink of boots approach the bar.

"Evening gentlemen." He said, to who he assumed to be the officers.

What he didn't expect was for one of them to say, "Alright, cousin."

Dennis jumped and turned to find his cousin Dodger stood beside him, with the pirate Darren Osborne or 'The Gambler' right behind him. They were wearing long boots, dark trousers and unclean white shirts.

"Dodge!" Dennis said, "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"The _Chez Chez _needed a supply stop, and I said I knew just the place to stock up on rum." Dodger grinned. He looked at the barman. "Mind if we take a crate or two?"

"No, no." The barman said, even though it obviously wasn't ok. "Take all you need."

"You gunna pay for that Dodge?" Dennis asked. The landlord had a business to run after all.

Dodger just laughed and ruffled Dennis' hair. "You're funny Den. Come on Darren."

x-H.O-x

Even though Dodger and Darren had come into the tavern instead of the navy officers, the officers could still have been patrolling the streets, so Dennis didn't go down to the cellar to find Ste until an hour or two after Dodger and Darren had gone, taking several crates of rum with them.

"Come on then Stealer," He said, descending the stone steps. The cellar smelt strongly of alcohol, and a rat scurried across the floor when he entered. "Coast is clear."

When Ste didn't appear, Dennis began checking behind crates and barrels. "Ste? This isn't funny, man. Where are you?"

x-H.O-x

What had possessed Ste to hide in the crate, he had no idea. But he had emptied it of the bottles of rum and had climbed inside. He supposed it was because he really _really _didn't want to go back to prison. And he seriously didn't want to be executed. He didn't want to be found, so he was going to hide properly.

What he hadn't expected was for the crate to be lifted up after only minutes of being inside it. He kept stone still and didn't make a sound. If someone was moving the crate somewhere, he could slip past the officers unnoticed. The swaying of the crate was rather soothing and after two days of exhausting himself out with fear and running and hiding, he found himself falling asleep.

But not even his wildest dreams could have prepared him for when he woke up. The crate was still swaying, but not in the same way, and when he looked up he found himself staring into another person's face.

"Here, you aren't rum." The guy said.

"Wha?" Ste asked in confusion, even as the guy was hauling him out of the crate by his collar. Ste started to struggle. "Let me go!"

"Rhys, what the hell is going on down there?" A Scottish-accented voice shouted.

"We got ourselves a stowaway." Rhys shouted back. "Ain't these the crates Dodge and Darren brought back from the town?"

Ste gawped at the word 'stowaway'. Where the hell had he stowed away to, exactly?

He looked around the room, to find that it was all made of wood and stacks of crates and barrels were everywhere. It smelt of salt. He could hear splashing, and the room still swayed as though it was…no. Surely not?

"Hang on, what?!" Ste cried out, as footsteps thudded down the stairs.

The young man that appeared looked younger than Ste – about nineteen, maybe – and was dressed similarly to Rhys. In other words, suspiciously like a pirate. He had a blue bandana on his head. "Who is this?" He asked.

"Dunno. Stowaway." Rhys said, holding onto Ste as he attempted to make a break for it.

"I can see that." The Scottish lad rolled his eyes and then eyed Ste with distaste. "I'll get my dad." And then he was gone.

"Where am I?" Ste asked.

Rhys snorted. "As if you don't know. Whatever made you want to stow away on _this _ship, was obviously pure madness. The _Chez Chez _doesn't take passengers. Ever."

"Wait…what?! The _Chez Chez_?!" Ste couldn't be on that ship. It was impossible. He'd only found out that the thing actually existed a few hours ago. He had to be dreaming, surely.

If he was dreaming though, he wasn't snapping out of it. And as an irritated looking man stomped down the stairs and held a sword to Ste's throat, he decided that as much as he wanted to wake up from this, he really wasn't dreaming.

"Joel, Rhys, take this little bilge rat up to the deck." The man with the sword sneered. "We'll let him see what we do to hitchhikers."

"Parlay!" Ste cried out suddenly, the word pulled from a memory of a story he had once been told about pirate guidelines and rules.

The man snarled. "You wanna use Parlay on us? Really? Fine, we'll take you to see the Captain, but if you happen to fall overboard on the way there, don't blame me. Take him up to the deck."

"Yes boss." Rhys nodded, as he took one of Ste's arms and the Scottish guy the other and they dragged him up the stairs.

Ste struggled all the way. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this one?

It wasn't until the crew on deck gathered round to see the commotion, and Ste spotted Dodger Savage, that it began to dawn on him that he was in a hell of a lot of trouble. He was on the _Chez Chez _then. And this was the crew that Dennis had been telling him horror stories about. The man that had found him must be Rhys Ashworth, and the Scottish boy the First Mate, Joel Dexter. Which meant that the man still threatening him with a sword had to be Warren Fox, Quartermaster of the _Chez Chez_.

This was it, then. Ste was going to die.

"Look what we have here boys." Warren Fox jeered, "A stowaway! This idiot _dares _to stow away on my ship!"

"I think you'll find that it's _my _ship." A voice rang out over the rabble of men. The Irish accent was unmistakable.

"Of course Brady." Warren Fox said, "I meant _your_ ship."

"So," The Irish voice said, as the circle of men parted to let them through. "What _do _we have here?"

Ste had been keeping his eyes down, so the first thing he saw of the man was his black boots. Then as he raised his eyes, he took in tight black trousers, a half-open red shirt, and a crucifix hanging on a chain around his neck. Ste's eyes then found the infamous moustache, and then intrigued, yet cold, blue eyes, lined and darkened with kohl.

"A stowaway, Captain." Joel said. "Rhys found him in a crate."

"The little ratboy started mouthing off about Parlay. I was just deciding whether to throw him overboard, or just run him through, Brady. We haven't got time for stowaways."

Ste paled at Warren's words, and looked up into the Captain's eyes. They weren't on him anymore, and were too busy glaring challengingly at Warren. "If I want your opinion Foxy, I'll ask for it. This is my decision." He cocked his head. "I don't see why we can't sell him as a slave on our next stop. Get us a bit of cash out of it."

Ste hated the thought of being killed or left to drown, but to be sold as a slave?! Ste was _not _having that.

"You wouldn't want to be doing that, Captain." Ste said, trying to build the cocky confidence that usually spurred him on when he found himself in situations like these.

"Oh no?" Brendan's eyes slid back to him in interest. "And why's that?"

"This could be a fantastic opportunity for you Captain. To have me as a part of your crew."

Brady snorted. "_You_? A thin, scrawny little thing like you…" But even as he said that, Brady's eyes lingered on Ste's body unnervingly. "What could you possibly do as a part of this crew?"

"It's not so much as what I can do on the ship, as to what I can do off it." Ste said, "There's something you should know, I'm really good at blackmail, me. You sell me in any town or port, and I'll have the navy down on you faster than you know. Wanna risk that? No, course you don't. So, I'm willing to work on your ship, for my share of loot and you can be safe in the knowledge that I won't hand you over to the navy, 'cos you may supposedly be cold hearted killers, but you're human, and every human must fear the hangman's noose? Ain't that right?"

He wasn't expecting Brady to throw back his head and laugh, but he did. His teeth were far too white. Ste thought pirates were supposed to have disgusting teeth. The rest of the crew joined in with the laughter, and it died down the second Brady stopped.

"Are you blackmailing me, kid? You think it's wise to blackmail a pirate?"

Ste opened his mouth with a cocky reply, but before he could even utter a word, Captain Brady had punched him in the face and knocked him out cold.

* * *

Thanks for reading the first chapter!  
I hope you enjoyed! If you want more let me know :)  
mnm37 x


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